His Muse
by celsaywhat
Summary: Kurt Hummel has never been so terrified. When he takes away the dumpsters and the "hurt lockers," he doesn't know who he is. Come to think of it, he doesn't know who Blaine is, either.
1. A Warbler Welcome

December 2010

The windows were fogging up.

Unfortunately, I was a little too busy crying to laugh at this pathetic turn of events.

"Come on, Kurt. I know you'll love it here!" My dad reached across the console of the car and squeezed my hand. I appreciated the gesture, but having heard his voice sparked another wave of tears.

Wasn't I supposed to be happy right now? This was exactly what I wanted.

It wasn't about the dumpsters. It wasn't about the lockers. It was about Karofsky. There were dumpsters and lockers here - I was sure - but they wouldn't be the same. They would be friendlier here, like looking at them full of garbage and books as opposed to outed gay teens was a casual reminder of the no tolerance bullying policy.

Here, there would be no stress.

I wouldn't have to fear walking through the hallways between classes. I wouldn't have to keep tabs on Karofsky, wondering if he was around the corner, ready to push me into God knew what.

This place may have been everything I wanted, but it was still terrifying.

For a different reason.

When my dad let go of my hand, I said, "Thanks, Dad. I just . . ."

He didn't rush me to finish my sentence. He didn't push me out of the car. He didn't laugh at me for having sat in this God forsaken vehicle for the last hour and a half, sobbing at the view.

It really was beautiful. The picture in the brochure didn't give it justice. It looked like a medieval city - like I was running away from New Directions to join a wizarding world, not a boarding school. While it looked absolutely majestic, it also looked intimidating. There was a lot about this place I didn't know.

I hated the unknown.

Luckily, Dad knew that about me, so I found it oddly endearing that he expected me to cry. When we pulled to a stop in front of the administration building, he grabbed a tissue box he had hidden behind the driver's seat.

"What has you so scared, Kurt? This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

I laughed through my blubbering. Without a doubt, my eyes were bloodshot and my cheeks were so red, it probably looked like I had been slapped on both sides by someone with hands cold as ice. My voice was hoarse when I spoke.

"What if I don't make friends, Dad? What if I came here for nothing? What if it's not any different?"

Dad laughed - not a chuckle, but a laugh. He tipped his head back and laughed so loudly, I was afraid the administrators in the building would come out looking for the commotion. I didn't know whether to be insulted or afraid.

I settled for both.

"Kurt! Pull yourself together, kid. Everybody's gonna love you. I don't know why you're so worried about this place, and you haven't even stepped one foot inside."

He was technically wrong. I had pretended to be a student here when I was spying for New Directions. It had been a disaster - I wasn't believable at all, which is why I knew I didn't have a career waiting for me at the CIA. It was also a blessing because it was then that I learned about their no tolerance bullying policy.

Dad was right, in his own way, because this would be my first step inside as a real student.

"You don't understand, Dad. I'm gay!"

The look on his face told me that our thought processing was a little different. He didn't see my point. Dad raised one eyebrow and waited for me to continue. When I didn't, he opened his mouth in confusion and slouched. I fought the urge to laugh at his ridiculous expression.

"Kurt, we've gone over this. I know you're gay."

I shrugged. "It's just that . . . I don't know what to expect! I've never been anywhere where it's okay to be gay. I don't know what it's like not to be shoved into a locker or dropped in a dumpster for the fun of it."

Dad looked out his window, giving me time to think.

"I'd almost rather be bullied than not."

He turned around to look at me, his short fuse having just been lit. "What do you mean? You want to go back to McKinley? You want to go to a school that treats you like you don't deserve? Huh? You want to live in fear every day? You told me what happened there, Kurt."

I had told him. He was right about that.

When he heard what Karofsky was doing to me, I was sure he would follow me to school the next day and beat him as badly as Karofsky had beat me. While I would have loved to see him get what was coming to him, I chose a safer route: I suggested I transfer.

After he had a chance to calm down, Dad agreed that transferring was my best option. We did some research before committing to this boarding school, and he liked what he saw. He used the money for what would have been his honeymoon and paid for my tuition instead.

Needless to say, I didn't think it would be this easy. I didn't think I could suggest on a whim that coming to this school would be a simple solution, much less that Dad would hear it and agree with me almost immediately.

When he told me to pack the empty boxes he got from the storage closet in his office, I was stunned. I was more than stunned. It was like I was shocked by electricity. My feet were rooted to the ground, my jaw agape.

I had to clear up the misunderstanding, so I looked out the passenger door while I explained my innermost fear to him.

"Now that I can't be bullied, people will have to get to know me. And when some of them don't like me, it won't be because they're prejudiced, it'll be because there's something wrong with me. Not my orientation, but me. Me as a person, Dad. Me."

Dad shook his head at me, an expression of disappointment on his face. "Son, have you forgotten? You are a Hummel. We Hummels happen to be irresistible. The moment strangers meet us, we're in their back pocket." He looked up at me through his eyelashes and smiled deviously.

This was so out of character for him, I had to laugh. So I did for a while. Until I could hardly breathe. He smiled when he noticed I had stopped crying.

"The truth is, Kurt, that not everyone will like you. I won't lie to you and tell you that everything will be swell between you and every guy in the school." The tears welled behind my eyes before I could blink them away. I looked down at my clenched hands, tissues nestled in my fists.

Dad waited for me to look at him. "But I can tell you this, Kurt. It may take a while, it may take a day. I don't know when it's gonna happen, but someday soon, you'll find the friends you've dreamed of having. You'll find the friends that will love you no matter who you love."

I bit the inside of my lip to keep myself from crying. Dad took me by the shoulder and pulled me into his chest, hugging me over the console of the car. This was not one of the first I'm-here-for-you-Kurt hugs. This was a you're-ready-to-say-goodbye hug.

So I did. Despite the fear tightly knotting in my stomach and dislodging my airway, I hugged Dad a little tighter, and then I let go. I stepped out of the car, opened the trunk and unloaded my three bags and two boxes.

Dad didn't say anything else. He wasn't a teddy bear on the outside, though. I knew that. He wasn't about to hold my hand while I walked into the administration building to confirm my registration. He wasn't going to help me move my toiletries from my box to my dresser.

He was going to go home and deal with his emotions in solitude.

We were so alike in that way.

Within two trips, I had all my bags and boxes in the administration building. I left them in the corner out of the way while I walked across the shiny wood floor to the desk. There was an intimate aura about the place. Paintings of birds graced the walls and vintage couches were spread across the room in patterns that allowed for conversation.

Not a bad color scheme, either.

I was impressed.

"Can I help you?" the lady at the front desk asked as I neared her.

Dropping one of my bags on the floor beside me, I nodded. "Yes. I'm here to confirm my registration. I was told on the phone that I would need to pick up my schedule and my room key here."

"You're in the right place, sweetheart. What's your name?"

I shifted my weight nervously. This was it. I was going to be one of them.

I took a deep breath. "Kurt Hummel."

The woman typed my name into her computer and smiled up at me. "May I see some ID, Kurt?" She clicked something and the printer in the corner of her desk went to work. I bent over and picked up my bag, handing her the ID tucked in the front pocket.

A boy I thought I recognized was sitting at a desk behind the woman's. He was sorting through paperwork of some kind. I swore I knew his name, but I couldn't quite remember it. He looked nice enough. His smile was really bright and friendly.

Not to mention, the cool colors in his button down shirt really complemented his dark skin tone.

The woman handed me my ID. "Here you go, hun. I've got your schedule and your keys right here." She handed them to me and smiled. "David, d'you mind helping Kurt with his bags? He needs a warm welcome, anyway."

"Of course." The boy behind her stood up and took the suit jacket from the back of his chair. He slipped it on and walked out from behind his desk. He held out his hand. "I'm David. Welcome to Dalton Academy!"

"Kurt." He knew my name because I had just said it in front of him, but I wanted to be polite. He made his way to the corner of the room and picked up two bags and a box. "You really don't have to carry that much. I can take another bag."

He left me with the bag I already had slung over my shoulder and the smaller of the two boxes. I felt like I was using him for his muscle.

David laughed. "It's really no problem. Where does it say you'll be living?"

I looked down at the keys. One of them was blank and one of them had a simple 7 carved into it. There was a frantic moment where I thought I hadn't been given a specific room assignment, but then I noticed the number on my schedule. "It says Ashford Suite 7."

"No!" David whipped around, nearly dropping the box, and smiled at me. "You're Chad's new roommate! It's nice to meet you, man. I was wondering when he'd get another roommate. Sweet Lord, now he can't sneak his girlfriend in every night and do the bad boogie. Good riddance!"

Well, my first impression of David had been wrong. He struck me as the relaxed and almost dull type. I was glad to be wrong. This Chad character, on the other hand, I wasn't so sure about. I didn't want a roommate that did the nasty with his girlfriend every night. I didn't even want to know what the "bad boogie" consisted of doing.

"Do you know him, then?" I asked.

David laughed. "Nah, man. Of course, I do. I mean, I live in the suite."

We continued walking down the sidewalk. This boarding school looked much more like a university than a high school. It was so well kept and beautiful.

"There are three dorms at Dalton. Bennington." He nodded toward a building to the left. "Ramsey." He adjusted the box and pointed to a building far off in the distance. "And then there's the best dorm on campus - Ashford. They all have suites, but Ashford's are by far the nicest."

I followed him as he took a left turn. "How do suites work? I thought you said Chad was my roommate?"

David nodded. "He is. The suites have a common room, a bathroom, and three bedrooms attached to the common room. You'll be sharing one of the bedrooms in Suite 7 with Chad. Me and my roommate are right across the common room."

"How many suites are in Ashford?"

"There's five suites per floor and three floors." David stopped in front of a building and gazed at it with what I assumed was pride. "This is our home - Ashford in all it's glory. It looks pretty intimidating, I know, but you just gotta remember that we're all average chaps living in a dorm where tea sharply at noon is acceptable."

I laughed while he struggled to open the door with his hands so full. We slipped inside as I finally mustered the courage to ask him the question I had been wondering since we met. "Aren't there uniforms at Dalton? Is this them?"

David looked down at his suit and shook his head. "No." He led the way down the hall and quickly corrected himself. "I mean, yeah, we have a uniform. But no, this isn't it. I work in the administration building part time." He adopted a mocking voice as he said, "I'm required to look professional."

We stopped in front of a door with a sign on the wall beside it. On this sign was the number seven. "You use the key with the seven on it to open this door to the common room." He waited while I unlocked the door.

The common room looked amazing. It was painted forest green with dark wood coffee tables and navy blue couches spread in front of a fireplace. A bookcase stood on either side of the room. A tiny kitchen was in one corner, the counters made of marble and the appliances stainless steel.

"Bathroom's through that door." David pointed at the door straight across from the one we had just walked through. "There's a shower, toilet, and a sink in there. We all share it. So, if we end up racing each other for the shower, you might as well give up 'cause I'll win. Just giving you a heads up now, dude."

I spun around in at least three circles, admiring the room.

"This place is so cool!"

David gave me a cheeky grin. "This is my room. And yours . . ." He made a pathetic drum roll sound and then leaped to the side so I could look at the door that had been behind him. "It's right here! Use your second key to open this one." He put the box and the bags down outside the door. "Suite 7 is tight. We go to dinner at six. You should join!"

My eyes widened at the immediate invitation. I didn't know making friends would be this easy.

"Yeah! That'd be great!"

He smiled and punched my arm lightly. "I'll be working till five. That's a long time to look professional." David slouched his shoulders and then loosened his tie. He said something about sticking it to the man as he left the common room.

It was so much harder to forget how new and scary this place was now that I was alone. The key felt like an anchor in my hand. I had never shared a room with anyone before. I didn't even have brothers or sisters until about a month ago - even then, I hardly counted Finn. This was one hundred percent new territory, and I was terrified to venture into it.

Taking a deep breath, I stuck the key in the dead bolt lock and turned the knob.

The room was quite lovely. The walls were a dark blue. There were two beds with red duvets - Dalton colors had to grace every inch of the room, naturally. The closets and the desks were dark wood. It was a very fancy looking room. I half expected to find myself in a preppy all boys school by the looks of this room alone.

Oh . . . wait.

I assumed the neater side of the room was mine, so I went ahead and dropped the box on the bed and let my bag fall on the floor beside my feet. When I left to pick up the the rest of my stuff, I heard someone playing guitar in the next room.

The door looked like it was open, so I quietly walked across the common room to stand in the doorway and meet my suite mate.

A boy with dark curly hair was sitting with his back to me on his bed. His guitar was pulled close to his body as he strummed along to a song I didn't recognize. He looked so peaceful. His broad shoulders tilted inward, and his head was turned just enough that I could see one side of his face.

No. It couldn't be.

I must have gasped because something warned him someone else was there. He turned around and my suspicions were confirmed. I was now living with the cute boy that gave me courage not three weeks ago.

This wouldn't be awkward at all.

His name was Blaine. He was quite the looker. Slightly shorter than me, a smile that'd blind you if you looked too long, and a mop of dark curly hair that always seemed to be gelled back into oblivion. I knew why I hadn't recognized him.

Blaine wasn't in the Dalton uniform, and that's all I'd ever seen him wear before this moment. He was wearing dark washed jeans, a maroon V-neck sweater, thick black rimmed glasses, and a bewildered expression.

Wait. A bewildered expression?

His cheeks were tinted pink as he put his guitar back in its case and shoved it under his bed. "Hey, Kurt! What are you doing here? How'd you find me?" He pulled his phone from his back pocket. "Did you text me or something?"

We had an interesting friendship to say the least. I was very much attracted to him, but I tried not to get too carried away because it was clear he didn't feel the same. He was gay - the first gay guy I ever met. It went without saying that, when Blaine learned of my sexuality, he took me under his wing.

That was all he'd done.

Sure, we exchanged text messages more often than casual friends would. He was one of the only reasons why I lasted so long with Karofsky bullying me at every corner of McKinley. Blaine never told me it would be easy, but he did say I could fight it.

With his help, I had the courage. I ended up here. Well, here as in Dalton, not his bedroom.

I could barely take my eyes off him. His hair wasn't gelled back like it usually was. Instead, it was wild and tousled. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed, and God it made me want to do the bad boogie (whatever that was, I didn't care) with him twice over.

Swallowing loudly, I took a step into his room. "I . . . transferred. Here. To Dalton."

"What?" Blaine smiled and held his arms out, walking toward me. I met him halfway and threw my arms around his waist. His hair smelled like it always had, but it was much more appealing when he didn't gel it back. He whispered in my ear, "This is great news, Kurt."

He pulled me away to look at me. "Wait. This is great news, right?"

"Yeah, I . . . I think so." I smiled a bit hesitantly.

He noticed.

Blaine smiled at me encouragingly. "If you need me, I'll be here."

This time he really was here. He wasn't on the phone. He wasn't texting me. He was here, standing in front of me with his hair in disarray and his glasses on his nose. This time I felt like I was meeting the real Blaine.

I didn't love him any less.


	2. A New Beginning

_Hello, hello! My name's Celeste. I'm new to this site, so forgive me for not having written an Author's Note until the second chapter. First and foremost, I want to say that I do not own any of the characters or settings your recognize. While I do wish I owned Blaine, it wouldn't really matter because he's gay._

_I hope you're all enjoying this story! This is my way of curing my endless writer's block. I hope it is as entertaining for you to read as it is for me to write. Please feel free to leave comments or questions - they're always greatly appreciated._

_Enjoy!_

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The moment I picked up the second box, it was like picking up the biggest burden I had ever come across. Was I really here? Would running from my problems really solve them?

Why did I have to ask so many questions? Couldn't I just sit back and enjoy how lucky I was to have a family that cared enough about me to send me somewhere safe?

I missed them, especially Dad. I even missed Finn.

While I sat on my bed and stared at my bags and my boxes lying on the floor, I could hear Blaine moving in the room next door. I pictured him sitting at his desk, tapping his pencil idly on his notebook, doing his best to stay focused on his trigonometry. I could see him tilting his chair back and tossing something at the ceiling if only to pass the time.

I didn't want to unpack. Not yet.

Unpacking meant accepting that this was home now. I would be living here, not permanently, but long enough for the word "permanent" to spring to mind when describing how long the stay would be.

All this time, I thought I was ready to be Kurt Hummel. I thought I was ready to step outside New Directions, not having to be the oppressed and only outed gay kid at McKinley. It was a lot harder to be just Kurt Hummel, though.

That was, in part, because I didn't know who he was.

I knew that he liked boys, especially the kind with curly dark hair, bright eyes, and chipper smiles - like the one separated from me by only a wall.

I sighed loudly.

No matter what I thought about - singing, trigonometry, cute boys next door, even unicorns - my mind always found its way back to one specific question: Was this what I really wanted?

"Need some help unpacking?" Blaine leaned into the room, gripping the doorframe. "I'm trying to put off this Econ project as long as possible." He rubbed the back of his head and looked up at me, ashamed of admitting such a thing. "If I didn't have to do it at all, that would be great. Peachy, even."

Looking down at my pile of belongings, I stammered. "Uh . . . I guess I could use some help."

Blaine ignored me and walked across the room, gracefully stepping over my bags. He sat down beside me on the red bed and put his hand on my knee. "Are you all right, Kurt? You seem a little different today. Almost like you're . . . numb."

I laughed. "That wouldn't be a bad word to describe what I'm feeling."

"My question is why."

He moved his hand ever so slightly on my knee, and my gaze immediately moved to his face. He was smiling at me as always, but this time I could see he was worried. He didn't break the eye contact, even after my eyes brimmed with tears.

This was ridiculous. Not over an hour ago, I was sitting in Dad's car crying over the same thing. I felt so childish, unable to get over something that should be so simple. I was a student at Dalton now. My problems were over. I didn't need to sob myself into an oblivion.

I could tell in his eyes that Blaine didn't think I was childish. I was sure that was the furthest thought from his mind as he squared his shoulders in my direction, giving me all of his attention. "Talk to me, Kurt."

"It's all so overwhelming." I laughed through my tears. This was so silly. "Just last night, I was sleeping in my own bed in my own house. And now I'm in some strange room that I'll have to live in with someone else I've never met before for the next seven months."

Blaine chuckled. "That is how boarding school works."

Even though I knew he was kidding, I was a little offended. "I know that's how it works. It doesn't change the way I feel."

He calmly collected himself. "Of course. I wasn't saying it does." He paused to purse his lips together, considering the gravity of the situation. "I think you knew what you were signing up for, Kurt. I think you're making excuses right now. It's not about where you live or who you live with."

I looked at my hands, curled into a ball on my lap.

"There's something bigger and deeper behind these tears."

He was right. I wasn't surprised. Blaine was always right.

"I want to fit in. I want to belong." I said it all in one breath, barely above a whisper. I was amazed Blaine could understand what I was saying. Something in me told me that he didn't need to hear my words. He already knew what I was worrying about.

Blaine laughed at himself. "At the risk of sounding like my mother, I'm going to tell you something you should never forget." He leaned in closer and whispered for full effect. "No good things happen overnight."

My eyebrows knitted together. "So you're saying I have to suffer through this?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm saying that you should be who you are. You have a second chance, Kurt, that not many people get. You have the opportunity to be everything you've ever wanted to be and more. These people don't know you. They don't know what you've been through. It's a fresh start, a clean slate."

"What does that have to do with things happening overnight?"

Blaine stood up and lifted one of my boxes to the bed. He opened it and pulled out a book, placing it on the bookcase above my new desk. "I'm saying that this is a process. It may scare you now, but further down the road, you'll belong. You'll even wonder why you were so scared all those months ago."

I stood up and blocked his path to the open box. "How can you be so sure?"

"I was a new student here once. My priorities were simple: fitting in and surviving." He leaned against my desk and crossed his arms. "In hindsight, I can see now that I was wrong. If I could do it again, I would focus on self-discovery. I would let things fall into place."

Nodding, I sat back down on the bed. "Because nothing good happens overnight."

Blaine took a step forward and pointed at me. "Exactly. Now you get the idea." He pulled another book from my box and laughed. "Harry Potter has got to be the coolest kid in the fictional world. I whole-heartedly approve of your taste in literature."

The door to the suite slammed shut. I jumped a bit, startled by the sudden noise. Blaine rolled his eyes. I took that to mean this was a usual thing.

A boy walked into my room and dropped his book bag on the floor by the second bed. There was a terrifying moment when I thought he was Karofsky. They looked a lot alike - both were tall and brawny. This kid looked like the preppy white boy version of Shaquille O'Neal.

He picked up the iPod on his bedside table and put his headphone buds in his ears. I watched, confused, as my new roommate ignored my existence and instead listened to what sounded like rap.

I looked back at Blaine, silently asking him what I should do. He tilted his head toward my roommate and smiled at me. Then he went back to putting my books on the shelf. When I stood up, I noticed him glance at me from the corner of his eye.

Clearing my throat, I walked across the room and held out my hand. "Hi. I'm Kurt."

The boy on the bed yanked the buds out of his ears. "Fuck. You must think I have zero manners. My mom raised me right, I promise." He stood up from his bed and shook my hand. "I'm Chad. I'll respond to anything but Sugar Sugar because that nickname is only okay when my girlfriend says it."

Chad stood in the middle of the awkward silence for a moment. "So, you must be my new roommate?"

I nodded.

He looked around my side of the room. "Shit. Another Harry Potter fan? This suite sings the Potter Puppet Ass Wipe song in little harmonizing voices. So goddamn annoying. If you corrupt my roommate and take him to the dark side, I'm going to blow a gasket, okay, Blaine?"

Blaine turned around and smirked. "You mean this one?" He straightened his posture and sang in his beautiful voice. "Snape, Snape, Severus Snape."

"Dumbledore!" I shouted.

We were laughing while Chad clenched his fists. "I don't want to beat you up after having only just met you! Wait. What's your name again?"

"Kurt. My name is Kurt."

Throwing his arm around my shoulder, Blaine shook his head. "If I didn't know any better, Chad, I'd say that you don't care about your new roommate." He looked at me. "To that, I have to say that you are missing out, my friend."

My smile widened. I couldn't help but blush at a comment so . . . nice. I looked at the ground bashfully to keep Chad from noticing.

It wasn't me he noticed, though.

"Oh-ho! Only known the guy for an hour and Blaine's already got a crush. This is a new record, Blaine. What will all your suitors think of this new competition?"

Chad crossed his arms and looked smugly at Blaine for a moment.

He didn't move at first. In fact, I didn't even think he was breathing. Then, not a moment after Chad made his snide remark, Blaine had dropped his arm from over my shoulders and added some space between us.

"I've got an Econ project." As he left the room, Blaine made eye contact with me. I couldn't describe what he was trying to say behind his eyes, but I knew in my gut that it was something important.

"What was that about?" I asked. Turning around to continue unpacking, I waited for Chad to answer my question.

He scoffed. "It's nothing. Blaine just doesn't like talking about his personal life."

Trying to be as casual as possible, I grabbed one of my bags from the floor. I didn't want to seem too interested, but truth be told - I had to know what this was about. I needed to know what Blaine was trying to tell me as he left.

"Why not?"

Chad shrugged. "I don't know. I don't try to understand him. That would take too much work." He put his iPod back on his bedside table. "Do you have any brothers or sisters, then?"

"I have a stepbrother." I tried not to sound so disappointed at the change in subject.

He began taking books out of his bag. When he sat down at his desk to do some homework, I was assuming, he began telling me his life story.

"That's cool. I have a little brother - he's an idiot if I ever saw one. Anyway, we were climbing on trees when we were really little, and he was like, 'I want to be a monkey, Chad.' And while he was swinging from branch to branch, he took a nose dive and fell in this complete mess of dog shit. I thought it was the funniest thing ever. He broke his arm and . . ."

I was sure Chad was a great guy. He seemed interesting enough, with his stories about climbing trees and Potter Puppet Pals. Halfway through his story about the "idiot brother," I tuned him out. It wasn't because he was boring me. It was because I needed time to think.

When I lived at home, my room was my sanctuary. I knew that literally everyone in the world claimed the same thing, but truthfully - my room was a sanctuary. I could sit in that room for hours, lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling while listening to music from Broadway musicals, imagining myself as a cast member.

With another person living in this room, I knew that this could never be my sanctuary. Chad was still talking about that time his brother fell from a tree and into dog poop. I wanted silence, and instead the air was filled with worthless noise.

Leaving my bags as they were, I turned around and smiled at Chad. "That's so hilarious! Dog poop? Really? What are the chances of that?" I gave him about three seconds to process what I said. "Okay, now I really must be going."

I grabbed my keys from my desk and shoved them in my pocket as I left Suite 7.

Chad wasn't what I was expecting. I didn't know what to expect of my first roommate, but I definitely had not factored in a giant almost exactly my opposite. This would be a challenge, and I knew it. Would he expect to have his girlfriend over every night? Would he pick on me like he picked on Blaine?

What was that about, anyway? He said Blaine had suitors. Plural. As in more than one. I never thought I would be the only gay kid to have a thing for him, but confirming I wasn't the only one made my heart drop to my knees.

I didn't stand a chance.

It was only after Ashford was long behind me that I realized I forgot my map of Dalton in the suite. I considered turning around. I didn't know where I was going, and suddenly all of the buildings around me looked just like Ashford.

On impulse, I decided not to turn back. I need the air. I needed the space. I needed the time.

I let my thoughts wander as my feet carried me wherever they went. My thoughts were slightly comforting. I was running over the lyrics of the last song I was to perform for New Directions. I never had a chance to perform it because I announced I was transferring before we even started the rehearsal.

Plucking my phone out of my pocket, I dialed the number I had added to my speed dial the moment I knew I would be leaving.

"Hello?" Mercedes answered on the second ring.

I smiled as my eyes watered. "Oh, my god. It's you. It's so good to hear your voice!"

She laughed. "Hi, Kurt. How's Dalton? Have you seen Blaine yet?"

"Actually," I chuckled. "About that. He lives in my suite. We share a bathroom now."

I watched my feet as I walked, making sure not to step on cracks in the sidewalk. Concentrating on a worthless task like this helped to prevent the tears from falling.

Mercedes gasped. "What? That's great! And to think you were worried about not having friends."

The sidewalk split into two directions. I picked the one with more brush around it. "Absolutely. You'd be worried too, Mercedes. This place is a little scary. Prep school doesn't even begin to describe the atmosphere."

"How's your roommate?"

Snorting back laughter, I tried to remember every detail of his story. I hadn't really been listening, so I could only give Mercedes a short summary. "His name is Chad. He's a sex crazed mammoth that will hate on Harry Potter to his death."

Mercedes winced. "That bad, huh?"

I didn't want to complain anymore. I didn't even want to think about Dalton.

"How's New Directions without me? Has Rachel hijacked the club?"

There was a moment of silence. "No, but nothing's going to stop her from trying."

I heard it in her voice. Call it intuition, but my heart knew that something was bothering Mercedes. While I walked on the sidewalk, I noticed a bench some distance to my right. I turned toward it. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She paused. I didn't pressure her to tell me the truth. On her own terms, she corrected herself. "Everything is different now that you're gone, Kurt. I know that this is a good change for you because you're safe now. You don't have to worry anymore."

I didn't say anything because, deep down, I was questioning whether this was a good change.

"That doesn't mean I can't miss you, though."

My eyes watered again. I really needed to stop crying at every little thing. Maybe I had too much estrogen in my system. Maybe I needed to watch more football and curse at least once in every sentence.

"I miss you too, Mercedes."

We said our goodbye, and I hung up. I stuffed the phone back in my pocket as I reached the bench. My breath caught in my throat. This must have been the separation between upper and lower campus. The bench sat on a hill overlooking lower campus.

It looked like a kingdom down there, stone buildings standing resolute in the afternoon sun. I had to admit that, even though I wasn't ready to call it home, I could see myself living at Dalton. I could see myself loving it here, but certainly not tomorrow.

I wasn't sure yet. About anything. I wasn't sure about my life. I wasn't sure about my future. Sitting on that bench, overlooking the world while it moved without me, I was sure of one thing: I would be fine.

Blaine was right. This wouldn't happen overnight, but one day, I'd be happy.

I would be pleased with my decision to come here. I would wonder why I ever hesitated in the first place. I longed for that day to come sooner rather than later, but for now, I would just focus on self-discovery.

The trees behind me rustled.

A boy that looked like he just stepped out of a photo shoot stumbled through the brush. He was beautiful, despite his clumsiness. He was wearing only a pair of elastic shorts, and his iPod was holstered to his bicep.

"Hey," he said, nodding in my direction. His voice was deep and thrilling.

I definitely wasn't at McKinley anymore.

He wasted no time in sitting beside me on the bench. I noticed that there was less space between us than what was considered socially acceptable. Cute-Sweaty-Boy was being one of two things: overly friendly or flirty.

Which did I prefer?

"I see you nabbed my spot." He nudged me with his shoulder.

Looking down at the view (lower campus, not his abs), I shrugged. "I had no idea this spot was claimed."

His smile graced his face like a sigh of relief. It was almost as if it took a great amount of work to keep a straight face until this moment. The smile didn't just appear, it made an entrance.

"My name's Mike Morris, but everyone calls me Morris."

I smiled. "I'm Kurt."

Morris looked straight ahead at the view of lower campus. "I don't mean to be nosy, so feel free to tell me I'm venturing too far into your business." He looked back at me. "Are you new here, Kurt?"

"What was your first clue?" I asked.

He laughed. It sounded peaceful. Oddly, it put me immediately at ease. It was like waves hitting the shore, birds chirping on a spring morning, a flag flying in the wind. His laugh was so natural.

"You seemed a little too enamored with the view." He pulled his headphone buds out of his ears. "There seems to be a lot of new students here lately. My friend Chad's supposed to get a new roommate this weekend. Can't wait to meet that kid."

I smirked. "You just did."

Morris looked me up and down. Suddenly self-conscious, I pursed my lips together. "You're Chad's new roommate? Ha!"

We looked out at the view for a moment. "Why's that funny?" I finally asked.

"Chad's just . . . Chad." He chuckled darkly. "He's about as unique as they come." Morris made eye contact with me and smiled. "To answer your question, though, yes. He does normally talk that much."

Something about Morris was very attractive. It was more than just his looks. That, without a doubt, was attractive. No questions asked. I think what I liked was his mystery or his knack for communicating without words.

"How do you know Chad?"

Morris gestured to the iPod on his bicep. "We're training for a triathlon together." He licked his lips, as if thinking about whether to say something or not. "Chad was my roommate freshman year. I know how . . . frustrating he can be, so if you ever need back up, I'm here for you, Kurt."

Panic fired through my veins like canons. "Back up? Why would I need back up?"

"Chad's favorite form of entertainment comes in a bottle."

Why so cryptic, Morris?

"When he's had too much fun, he can get a little out of control." Morris' face had gone serious after his talk of Chad's entertainment. He solemnly looked out at the view and then laughed. "I hate to get all serious on you, bud. Don't you love Dalton?"

I propped my head on my hand. "Too early to tell."

Morris stood up and brushed off his shorts. "Well, this was enough of a break. It was nice meeting you, Kurt. I'm sure I'll see you around, what with my being Chad's friend and all."

"That'd be great."

He was off and running through the brush again. I watched him until I couldn't see him anymore. I wondered how it was possible for so many friendly people to live in one concentrated area. I wondered why there weren't perpetual rainbows gracing the sky and happiness spreading like an epidemic.

I didn't know how long I sat there. I liked that time was a concept to which I didn't pay attention. It was refreshing to step outside the world for a couple hours. It felt like I was set free, like I didn't have to do anything but exist. The worries left me, and the people were far enough away for me to breathe.

It was peaceful here, on this bench, overlooking lower campus as the sun set in front of my eyes.

Maybe I would nab Morris' spot after all.

When I finally got around to finding my way back to Ashford, the boys were standing in the common room, waiting for me. Blaine was perched on the arm of the couch, but when he saw me he quickly stood up.

David held his arms out to welcome me. "There you are! We're waiting for you."

"Why?" I looked at them. They all had their jackets on.

I watched David's jaw drop to the floor. "You don't remember me inviting you to dinner? You know, this a privilege - nay, an honor - to be asked to eat with us. You should be scheduling it in a day planner for Pete's sake."

A boy I didn't recognize held his hand out to me. He was gangly and Asian. "I'm Wes, this kid's roommate." He gestured to David and added, "Don't feel bad about forgetting. David's the only one that holds you at impossibly high standards."

"We know how stressful it is to move to a school like Dalton. It's not just a day thing, it's a living thing." Another boy, this one blond, shook my hand. "I'm Alex. I live with Blaine."

David smirked. "Bienvenidos a Los Muchachos del Dolce Siete."

I laughed. "I'm sorry?"

Shaking his head in amusement, Blaine chuckled as David smugly crossed his arms. "He said, 'Welcome to the Brothers of Suite 7.'" Blaine's eyes literally smoldered. "He means it, by the way, Kurt. Welcome."

"Thanks," I said. "But you do realize that 'dolce' means sweet as in candy, not this kind of suite, right?"

Wes pointed at David. "Oh! We got a newcomer that tells it like it is! About time somebody calls you on your nonsense, David." He clapped David on the shoulder, as if offering a silent apology. "You study Spanish for five years and you still don't know how to speak the language. It's a sad day, David."

"Maybe he meant sweet like we're totally awe-inspiring, positively out of this world!" Alex piped up.

David gave Alex a high five. "Yes! I knew someone in this suite still loved me. Thanks for having my back, bro." Alex nodded and put his hand to his heart, closing his eyes whimsically.

Alex politely suggested I get my jacket so we could leave for dinner.

Now that I was with everyone from Suite 7 (Chad being the only exception, but he didn't really count anyway), I was more excited to be at Dalton than I ever had been before. These guys were great. My conversation lasted no more than two minutes and I was already feeling at home.

I could get used to this.

When I had my jacket slung over my arm and my key locking the dead bolt to my room, I heard Wes say something to the group. "It's no wonder you like him so much, Blaine."

The smile spread on my face before he even finished speaking.

"All right!" I held up my jacket triumphantly. "Let's get some grub."

We were in the cafeteria, walking past the salad bar and the corner with a sign labeled "Hanker." Alex and Wes had already slipped away to get something to eat at the salad bar. David put his hand on my back and steered me in the opposite direction. "Here's the secret, kid. Keep away from Hanker. Everything there is either doused in grease or covered in fat. You'll be hiding a muffin top soon after eating there."

I cringed. "Ugh. Good to know."

"My personal favorite," Blaine walked backwards so he could face me while we neared a sign that read "Wholesome." He held his hands out and wiggled his fingers in an epic gesture. "Wholesome's got everything you could ever want - a variety of salads, sandwiches, soups."

Blaine stopped and stood in line at Wholesome. I looked at David. "Thanks for the grand tour, but this is definitely my stop."

"Suit yourself!" David patted my back as he let go of me and continued walking to the "Experience Culture" sign, obviously intent on eating something from somewhere else. I wanted to play it safe. I was after my comfort food: peanut butter and jelly.

Blaine said something, but I could hardly hear him. I pointed to my ear and shrugged. Instead of turning back around to wait until we were seated and could hear ourselves think, he leaned down and said to the crook of my neck, "Solid choice."

I smiled not because I was excited to eat my PB and J, but because his breath smelled so good. He lingered there, inches from my face, in case I wanted to add something to our conversation. I didn't know what to say, but I knew that we wouldn't be this close again for a while if I didn't blurt the first thing that came to mind.

So I did just that - I blurted. "I think I like it at Dalton."

Nudging me gently with his elbow, Blaine quirked an eyebrow. "The boys are cute, huh?"

"Very." After hearing my agreement, Blaine grinned. He didn't move away first. He didn't even hesitate. Instead, he rubbed my upper arm kindly and then chuckled right in my ear.

We stood there in silence, me taking in every possible whiff of his scent and Blaine smiling at whatever he was thinking about. Neither of us thought about creating distance from the other. It was pleasant - those sweet few moments when the world stopped and we were all that was.

I had no choice but to break the silence. "You're next." Blaine's nose barely brushed my neck as he turned to look at the line.

He muttered something like, "Hm. I guess so." Without another word, he moved away and left me feeling empty and alone.

It felt like walking on a cloud as I walked from Wholesome to the fountain drinks. I poured myself a glass of water and grabbed a banana on the way to the tables. When I looked across the cafeteria for Suite 7, I had no choice but to beam.

There they were, all crowded close in a booth in the corner, waving at me. My jitters were gone within seconds. I could already feel the feeling of family surround me like an electric blanket. I didn't want to leave this warmth, not ever.

"So how come Chad doesn't come to these things?" I asked as I sat down beside Alex.

Wes was unfazed. "Chad doesn't really participate in our Suite 7 dinners. In fact, he doesn't participate in anything Suite 7 related."

I took a bite of my sandwich. "Why not?"

"We're all very close anyway." Blaine pushed his salad around his plate as he explained. "Wes and David were voted to be the leaders our Glee club. You know, the Warblers. They're like captains, if you will."

Swallowing his salad, Alex added, "We're all members. So we sort of . . . bonded around Chad."

"He can't sing, then?" I asked.

David laughed loudly, and his milk almost jetted out of his nose. With a wad of napkins against his face, David managed to say, "If Chad can sing, it's his best kept secret."

We all ate in silence after that. Occasionally, one of us would snort with laughter because David did something ridiculous. First, he almost spilled his glass of milk. Then he ate a red hot pepper without having realized what it was.

He was amusing, to say the least.

Out of absolutely nowhere, Blaine spoke up. "Kurt, you should audition for the Warblers."

"He can sing?" Alex asked immediately.

Wes' interest had piqued immediately. He leaned forward in his seat and looked at me as if for the first time.

A smirk on his face, Blaine nodded. "It's called Google, Alex. Utilize it."

So, after having seen Blaine three times before transferring to Dalton, I had never expected him to know something like this about me. He was interested enough to Google me. He Googled me. Blaine took the time and the effort to get to know me better.

I was as flattered as flattered could get.

"For right now, I want to just adjust to living here, being a Warbler. You guys are going to make it so much easier, I know that now. But I still want to take at least a couple weeks to figure some things out."

The tone of Wes' voice was encouraging when he spoke. "Of course, Kurt. Take your time."

"I'm surprised we've made it this far through a meal without anything coming out of David's nose!" Alex laughed and bumped my shoulder. "Can you believe spaghetti once shot out of those nostrils?"

Blaine dropped his fork and laughed, covering his face. "Don't even talk about that!"

He looked so cute while he shuddered at the thought of spaghetti out the nose. Once I had enough focus to stop admiring Blaine and his cute facial expressions, I realized just how disgusting that would be.

"Choose your seat wisely at this table," Wes said with a wink. "For example, you're in the line of fire right now." I looked across from me at David, who smiled mischievously.

I nervously looked at my plate.

"Don't worry, man." Alex clapped me on the back. "You'll know the basics about Suite 7 sooner than you think." With that, he went back to eating, until someone else told a joke.

Alex and I shoved our chairs backward and shielded our faces from the milk that spewed out of David's nose.


End file.
